I'm not interested in the shattered glass...
I want to know what you hold in your depths
I’m not interested in the shattered glass, I want to know what made your hands shake and what helps you steady them.
I’m not interested in why you yelled, I want to know how old you felt and what your anger is calling out for.
I’m not interested in the spelling errors, I want to know what your heart has to say and where it takes you when you listen.
I’m not interested in how you lost the mitten, I want to know what it felt like to jump into the leaf pile and run till you couldn’t catch your breath.
I’m not interested in the sand you tracked in from the beach, I want to know what it felt like when the ocean kissed your feet while the seagulls flew overhead.
I’m not interested in your lack of manicure, I want to know whose hand you hold and what the electricity of love feels like as it runs between you.
I’m not interested in your faults, I want to know what breaks your heart and what you long for when you let yourself know desire.
I’m not interested in how many books you’ve read, I want to know the details of your hardest-won wisdom.
I’m not interested in your failures, I want to know what mountains you’ve climbed and what keeps you going step-by-step.
I’m not interested in what you’re trying to accomplish, I want to know why it matters to you and what’s pulling you in that direction.
I’m not interested in your perfections, I want to know how often you allow yourself to be free and what you do when no nobody is watching.
I’m not interested in what they think of you, I want to know what you love about yourself and what’s still hard to accept.
I want to know the depths of your inner ocean.
That’s what interests me.
I can already see the light that’s there.
I want you to see it, too.
You are here on purpose.
Your light matters in this world.
Can you see the glimmers yet?
Can you let yourself shine?
Hello sweet friend,
I wrote the above piece while on a walk along the riverfront in the late afternoon underneath the golden leaves of Autumn. A gentile stillness seemed to hang in the cool air after many full days.
Earlier this week I had taken my children on a Lantern Walk organized by their school. Together in groups of twenty or so, we wound our way through the dark mossy woods guided by the twinkling candlelight of our lanterns. We sang songs about the sun, the moon, and the stars up above, and how that same light in them burns brightly within each of us.
It had me thinking about how often we focus on the surface of things, our accomplishments, our perceived faults, the broken glass, the times we’ve lost our temper, and how we forget to ask what else might be true, or truer, than what first meets the eye.
May we approach one another and ourselves with gentile curiosity.
May we journey to the depths of our inner oceans.
May we find the beauty and light within the details of our hearts.
—
(Paying homage to and honoring Oriah and her beautiful poem The Invitation. I hadn’t read it since I first encountered it in high school, but her words have lived within me ever since, embedded in my being. After I wrote the above piece something about it felt familiar, and then I realized, it was The Invitation. Thank you to Oriah, for inspiring me all those years ago and still now. It’s magic how words have such a lasting effect on us, how they become a part of the fabric of our being. May we read words that open our hearts, expand our minds, and bring us closer to our collective humanity.)
This album. The just right kind of moody. Perfect for the dark afternoons as the days get shorter.
How sometimes you need to see what isn’t right for you before you can figure out what is. This week I realized (to no one’s surprise!) that I am most definitely not a literary essayist, that I don’t need to be one, and that I am quite okay with that. Here’s to knowing what we aren’t, so we can be more of what we are, and to all the imperfect writers who show up to the page and write anyway.
Holding gratitude and tenderness for deep friendships that have bloomed and been nurtured over this last year. Having spent many years prior feeling a chasm of loneliness, it’s a new kind of vulnerability to feel so close and so safe in female friendships. May we give ourselves grace to feel the tenderness especially when it arrives as a companion to joy and happiness.
Continuing to slowly make my way through Pema Chödrön’s The Wisdom of No Escape while savoring and underlining all the bits that resonate the most. I’ve been letting this particular notion simmer in me for the past few days: “…perhaps through this simple practice of paying attention—giving loving-kindness to your speech and your actions and the movements of your mind—you begin to realize that you’re always standing in the middle of a sacred circle, and that’s your whole life.”
Kind Words from a Coaching Client
—
“Working with Raina is like sitting in front of a mirror gently lit with candles. She offers a soft and generous reflection of the inner landscape I often turn away from, inviting introspection and beckoning along pathways I've always held but didn't know existed. To trust Raina is to give yourself the greatest gift. Where you are tender she will hold; where you are brittle she will soften; where you are hopeful she will help you shine. Accept her offering of welcome—Raina will be there to warmly embrace you.”
As we come to the end of this year and begin the transition into the new one I would love to offer the supportive container of an integrative coaching session. May we create time to reflect on all that’s unfolded and space to plant seeds of intention for the future.
As a gift to those looking for this kind of support, from now until the end of 2023 all sessions are free!
And use the code RECEIVE2023.
Read more about One-on-One Integrative Coaching with me here.
Strength — A symbol of inner strength, this is a reminder to stop trying to rid yourself of anger, sadness, fear, resentment, jealousy, etc. We can’t let go until we let through. When we don’t acknowledge ourselves and our feelings we become quick to react with anger, resentment, and impatience towards those around us and ourselves. By finding the support we to courageously approach our overwhelm, grief, uncertainty, and fear we release the power it has over us and we are better able to meet ourselves and the world with the strength of compassion.
With love and gratitude,
Raina
P.S. How often do you allow yourself to be free? 💌
I also love the Invitation too, and Pema Chodron. When I read your piece I knew there was a familiar ring to it.
Love this: “May we give ourselves grace to feel the tenderness especially when it arrives as a companion to joy and happiness.” Beautiful share, thank you. Xo❤️